


berenstein

by mjscorner



Series: peter parker's playlist (songfics) [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Dies, Peter Parker Lives, Peter Parker Loves Tony Stark, Peter Parker Misses Tony Stark, Peter Parker Whump, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Reunions, Songfic, Soulmates, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Loves Peter Parker, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tragedy, kinda? idk, temporarily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjscorner/pseuds/mjscorner
Summary: "God, give me a break," Tony muttered under his breath. Tears pricked his eyes."Mister Stark," Peter croaked out, taking Tony's shoulders firmly in his hands. Tony didn't flinch. "Tony, just wait for me, okay? Please. Wait for me."Tony rubbed a hand over his face. He looked like he wanted death now more than ever. Peter couldn't let that happen."You're getting older. You're moving on. And I'm-I'm getting scared, Tony. I think..." Peter swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes shut. "I think I'll die if you die. I'll-I'll really die. So-so please, Tony, I'm begging you. Wait for me. I'm still somewhere. I still exist."Tony disappeared before he could really get through to him. Peter collapsed to his knees, shortly after collapsing to his side."I'm still somewhere."No one heard him. He drifted out of consciousness yet again.ORafter thanos, vanished soulmates are forced to watch their living soulmates move on without them from the soul realm.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: peter parker's playlist (songfics) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762084
Comments: 14
Kudos: 166





	berenstein

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is based on the lyrics of "berenstein" by the band camino

Upon waking, Peter assumed he was back on Titan.

Judging by the harsh yet calming orange glow that was overwhelming his senses, he assumed it was simply the red dirt of Titan mixed with the naturally orange sky it possessed mixed with the aftermath of their ultimately unsuccessful battle with Thanos.

But it wasn't Titan. There weren't any mountains of rubble, any annoying Guardians, any debris from their space ship when it crash-landed there.

Instead, it was only Peter, and what felt like an infinite sky of glowing orange and an infinite, watery plain on which he felt glued. He eventually found it in him to sit up, every atom of his body screaming in protest.

He must be dreaming. Pain that immense could only be fabricated in a dream.

His senses were suddenly washing over him from head to toe and he was darting his head back and forth, jumping to his feet and stumbling a bit as he spun every which way, a panic-stricken horror numbing any and all logic.

There was no mistaking it then.

He wasn't on Titan anymore.

He was quite literally in a never-ending plain of orange ground an orange sky and-

_...Orange spaceship?_

His heart stopped upon noticing the ship that he remembered seeing Nebula use to land on Titan in as it was landing on the surface of the plain.

Except it looked worse than before. There was frost on the sides of it, and the orange color had mostly faded away. 

The "Benetar", he thought he remembered Quill calling it.

He never took his eyes off of Benatar, not that there was anything else to see, wherever he was. He took one cautious step forward before he was nearly jumping ten feet into the air as the Benatar was opening, a familiar figure stumbling out of its mouth. 

_Tony_.

Peter watched with wide eyes as Tony stumbled down the ramp of the ship, his confusion only growing upon noticing that it looked as if someone was supporting him, helping him walk...

But...but that was crazy. There was no one else there except him. 

_Right?_

"Mister Stark!"

Peter waved an arm in the air excitedly. Tony didn't flinch.

"Mister Stark!" He tried again. Still, Tony did nothing.

Peter let out a huff of frustration, jogging to Tony in defeat. When he got closer, he expected Tony to turn and wave at him, to say something quippy like " _Welcome back to the land of the living, Young Buck_."

...Except Tony didn't look the same as he had a moment ago on Titan. He didn't look well at all. His eyes were a dangerous yellow color, and his skin was hanging off of his bones. The bags under his eyes were dark and deep, and Peter had no idea what could prompt such a complete transformation in his appearance from the last time Peter saw Tony back on Titan five minutes ago to now. 

"Mister Stark!" Peter tried again. Tony looked back to the mouth of the ship for a moment before continuing his drunken decent. 

"Couldn't stop him," Tony mumbled. Peter wouldn't have heard if he didn't have enhanced hearing.

"Yeah, I know," Peter huffed with a laugh, He went to take Tony's arm. Tony still didn't acknowledge his presence.

"Hang on," Tony huffed in exhaustion. Peter almost made a joke about how he was getting old, about how he couldn't even handle a few lousy steps down a ramp, except there was something in Tony's eyes that overwhelmed him with worry and made ice shoot through his veins. Also, Tony wasn't even _looking_ at the kid. He was looking...at someone else. But it was just them.

"Mister Stark, wha-"

"I lost the kid."

Peter blinked.

He didn't move, didn't think, didn't breathe. Tony still wasn't looking at him. Whatever- _whoever_ he was looking at, he was nodding at them, swallowing back thick tears. He let out a whimper from the back of his throat.

"But..." Peter shook his head, "but I'm right here, Mister Stark."

"Is, uh..." Tony closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling shakily through his nose before something to his right caught his attention and he was relaxing in relief. "Oh, thank god. Oh, good."

Peter watched in bewilderment as Tony hugged air. He was breathing in someone's scent. He was trembling all over.

He looked devastated. 

"It's okay," Tony said as he began walking forward slowly. Peter was glued to his spot. His feet wouldn't move. He felt alone.

A hot, white pain shot through Peter's head.

" _Something is happening_."

" _Steady, Quill._ "

"... _Oh, man_."

Peter's eyes snapped open wide and he choked out a pained gasp, collapsing to his knees and physically feeling the way Tony walked further away from him. He gripped his head, staring at the ground in wide-eyed confusion before his eyes were rolling into the back of his head and he was collapsing back onto the cold, wet ground.

⎊

When Peter awoke again, he could sleepily make out Tony's figure sitting defeatedly in a wheelchair.

The sight was enough to make Peter sober up quickly, jumping up from the ground and stumbling upon gaining his balance. When he was grounded enough, he also noticed that Tony was sitting in front of a desk of some kind.

He was, unfortunately, still trapped in the orange abyss, but Tony was there. And that was all Peter needed, at least for the time being.

Peter blinked suddenly, distantly hearing muffled, echoing voices following his head around.

" _It's...twenty-three days...Thanos came to Earth_."

"... _World governments...um._.."

Peter flinched slightly through the noise, though the desk was catching his attention the most. There were holograms, flashes of people's faces, people he mostly knew. The king of Wakanda, Scarlett Witch, that really weird guy he met in Germany that could make himself big...

Peter looked back at Tony with a frown. Tony glanced up at the holograms momentarily, as if dreading someone in particular. Peter still had no idea what the holograms meant. 

Except then Peter's face flashed right in front of Tony's, his name right underneath it. Peter's mouth parted in surprise, watching painfully as Tony hid his face in his trembling hand, pushing his glasses up exhaustedly. Peter went to look back at his hologram, but it was already gone, replaced by someone else.

There were so many of them. They came and went like ghosts. 

"Where is he now?" Tony asked rather impatiently, waving a hand in the air. "Where?"

A deep voice echoed in response. Whatever the response was made Tony fidget with the wheels of his chair with a displeased huff, turning his head toward something in particular. "What's wrong with him?"

Peter followed Tony's finger. It pointed toward more abyss. Peter wondered if he was in some sort of coma, some sort of drug-induced dream, some sort of mind control. There was no one else but them.

There was no _him_. Who the hell was he talking to?

"Honestly, until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-a-Bear."

...Now, this was getting ridiculous. Peter stormed over to Tony's chair, taking him firmly by the shoulders. He tried making firm eye contact. Tony wouldn't acknowledge him.

"Mr. Stark, please," he begged. He got no response. "You _have_ to snap out of it. Thanos, he-he must be controlling you with the Mind Stone. Maybe he's got me, too. But you're stronger than this. We...we both are."

"Who told you that?" Tony asked. It was a quick, biting question, one that indicated that he was about to school someone. Peter knew the tone more than anyone. "I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleeker Street magician gave away the store. That's what happened. There was no...fight. Cause he's unbeatable."

...Maybe Tony wasn't the one that needed waking up. Maybe this was all in _Peter's_ head. He looked around frantically for anything that wasn't orange, glowing abyss. 

"I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision. I didn't want to believe it. Thought I was dreaming."

"Yeah," Peter mumbled. "That's how I feel-"

"And I needed you," Tony bit out. It was enough to captivate Peter with a cold hard grip. "As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late, buddy. Sorry."

Tony sniffed, biting back tears and leaning forward. Peter lurched toward him as he realized he was about to stand from his wheelchair. He didn't know why he was in it in the first place or why they were here, but he could only distinguish one coherent thought at the moment.

 _Protect Tony at all costs_.

Tony accidentally slammed his fist into a bowl and sent it clattering across the table. Peter rushed forward to help him stand. 

"You know what I need? I need a shave."

Peter held his breath as Tony began attempting to rip the IVs from his arm. 

"I don't know what those are for, but I have a feeling they're supposed to stay _put-!_ "

"And I believe I remember telling all youse-" _rip,_ "alive and otherwise, that what we needed was a suit of armor around the world. Remember that?"

Tony was all but shouting now. Peter stood completely frozen.

He had given up on helping them. He may as well have been invisible.

"Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not. That's what we _needed_."

Tony spat out every word, as if each individual one was a microcosm for a world of hurt, as if each word had a special, twisted meaning to it that only came from experiencing grief first-hand. 

"I said we'd lose," Tony's lip began to tremble, his breath along with it. "You said, 'we'll do that together too.' And guess what, Cap?"

_Cap?_

"We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right?"

Peter finally shook himself out of his stupor in time to rush forward again as Tony was suddenly stumbling backward. It didn't do much. In fact, on the side Peter wasn't holding Tony, it looked as if someone else was doing a better job at keeping him upright. Someone invisible.

"Our best work after the fact? We're the 'Avengers.' We're the ' _Avengers_.' Not the 'Pre-Vengers.' Right?"

"Mister Stark, please," Peter's lip was trembling now too. He didn't know why. "You're-you're scaring me."

"Okay. No, no, here's my point. You know what? She's great, by the way."

Tony seemed to be struggling against some invisible force as he pointed forward, eyeing something impressively. Peter wanted to rip his hair out and scream for attention.

"Who?! Mister Stark, it's _just us_!"

"We need you. You're new blood. Bunch of tired ole mules. I got _nothin_ ' for you, Cap."

Tony stumbled forward in a daze, waving an accusatory finger in the air. Peter scoffed, turning the other way.

It was one thing to be responsible for Tony's downward spiral, but it was another thing to have to watch.

And...he was responsible, right?

"I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada."

Peter turned at that. Tony's voice was low and gravelly. Each word was laced with venom so deadly that it nearly took Peter's breath away.

"No trust. Liar."

And then, Peter's breath was hitching in his throat again, because Tony was _ripping out his arc reactor?!_

"Tony, stop-!"

"Here, take this."

Peter watched with wide eyes as Tony passed it off to his invisible opponent, doing a double-take as the reactor vanished from thin air upon leaving Tony's grip.

"You find him, you put that on," Tony let out exhausted, strained huffs of air, and Peter realized that all of that venom he was spitting out was just a cover for the raw fear, the utter hopelessness that was now traced on every line in his tired face. "You hide."

Tony broke at the knees, shooting toward the ground. Peter cried out in alarm.

"Mister Stark!"

"I'm fine," Tony insisted. "Let me..."

He couldn't finish. With one last huff, he crashed to the ground his remaining descent. 

"Mister Stark! Wake up!"

Peter shook him. He tried lifting him into his lap. When he grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, he couldn't help the gasp that escaped him when Tony vanished into a cloud of nothing, leaving Peter completely alone on a plain of orange dust. Another white-hot pain shot through Peter's head again.

" _Tony._ "

" _No._ "

" _There was no other way_."

" _Mister Stark? I don't feel so good._ "

" _You're alright_."

Peter gasped, gripping his head and lurching forward on his knees. He wanted to throw up, but he had a strange, distinct feeling that he didn't know how to. Instead, he sank off of his knees and stared at his hands, quick and painful huffs of air escaping him frantically.

Maybe it wasn't just him and Tony here. 

Maybe it was just...him.

⎊

When Peter awoke a third time, he saw Tony sitting on the floor next to a cardboard moving box.

He frowned upon sitting up, unsure whether or not he should talk to Tony again or simply observe from a distance.

He ended up inching forward while trying to decide.

Tony was holding a framed photo in one hand, his knees propped up. Peter rose to his feet and made his way cautiously forward, a quiet laugh escaping his lips upon noticing the word "Web-Head" scribbled hastily on the side of the box. 

Peter rounded the box and stood behind Tony, frowning sadly when he realized that Tony was holding the photo of himself and Peter posing with Peter's fake internship certificate. He remembered the day they had decided to print it to show his friends after Tony got word from Ned that he was being made fun of at school.

Everything about the photo perfectly encapsulated their relationship. The bunny ears he was making behind Tony's head were way off. The damn certificate was upside-down. He was making a stupid face, and Tony was deadpanning. 

Tony sighed deeply before reaching inside of the box and trading the frame for a manila folder. Peter tilted his head at the acronym labeled on the side.

"' _W.E.B._ '?" Peter muttered. "What's that?"

Tony hesitated before opening it. The same acronym was printed in large bold letters at the top of what looked like a project proposal with Peter's ID photo paperclipped to the righthand corner. Peter leaned in to read it.

_Worldwide Engineering Brigade. An organization where young geniuses are inventing the technology for the future heroes of tomorrow._

Peter looked away with a hiss. He didn't need to be seeing this right now. 

It didn't help much that Tony's back was now bouncing with sobs.

"Oh, Mister Stark," Peter breathed out frantically, skirting around the box and kneeling so that he was facing Tony head-on, even though Tony wasn't looking back. He grabbed both of Tony's shoulders firmly.

Tony, as usual, didn't flinch.

"I'll fix this, Mister Stark. I-I promise I will. Or, I, uh...

Peter thought carefully, his words calculated. They wouldn't be heard, but he figured somehow, someway, they would make their way into Tony's head.

"...I need _you_ to fix this. I need you to get me out of here. I don't really know where here is, but I do? I guess I'm...dead. I don't know, that doesn't really make any sense. Then again, why should it? My point is...I'm not ready to be here. I really don't _want_ to be here. I want to be with you and May."

Peter bit his now-trembling lip. He felt so small.

"I-I never really had a school dance. Or a first kiss. A-and I never got to ask Michelle out. There's just-a _lot_ I want to do, Mr. Stark. And I can't-I-I can't-"

Tony was suddenly disappearing again into the air, evaporating in Peter's hold. Before he could further grieve, that same white-hot pain was shooting through his head and body.

" _Mr. Stark, I don't-I don't know what's happening_."

" _You're alright_."

" _I don't want to go, sir, please. I don't want to go._ "

⎊

When Peter awoke a fourth time, he didn't have enough energy in him to stay awake for long.

Wherever he was seemed to be sucking all of the life out of him slowly but surely.

He could feel that persistent, frustrating pulse of orange he had grown so annoyingly accustomed to beyond his eyelids. He could feel the wet ground underneath him, could feel the miles of endless abyss that stretched every which direction.

He opened exhausted eyelids and stared ahead anyway, breathing hitching in his throat when he saw him.

Tony was sitting across the way in a rocking chair. He was holding, cradling something delicately in his arms. Peter crawled forward on his hands and knees at an agonizing pace.

Upon further examination, Peter deduced that the bundle in Tony's arms was a _baby_.

The actual baby he could not see, but he was able to distinguish the scrappy white hospital blanket with giraffes printed across it, and Tony's tears of jubilation gently streaming down his cheeks brought Peter such happiness that he mirrored his gaze for a fraction of a second.

It was quickly replaced by a deep aching in his heart.

"Wait," Peter gasped out. He sat at Tony's feet, reaching a trembling hand upward. He wanted to see the baby. He knew he didn't have the strength to. 

"Shh," Tony smiled down purely at the child. Peter tilted his head in awe as Tony's voice boomed and echoed gently in every square inch of the abyss. "I've got you, baby."

"W-Wait," Peter choked out again. They didn't hear him. They were _moving on without him._

Peter finally reached up far enough to touch the baby's blanket, though both Tony and the child were disappearing in a cloud of nothing before he could earn the satisfaction of seeing their face. His lip trembled. He collapsed back onto the ground.

 _Wait for me_.

No one heard him.

⎊

When Peter awoke a fifth time, it was to the sound of frantic and heavy breathing.

A familiar, feminine voice was echoing softly all around him. It wasn't harsh or berating, and it relaxed him into consciousness despite the awful, heavy breathing he was hearing. He turned tiredly toward the source, eyes fixated on Tony as he appeared to be talking to someone.

"I'll-I'll just go sleep on the couch, Pep. No, no, It's okay. Rest, my love."

Peter rose to his feet, though he fell back down on one knee as nausea kicked in with full force. He stood again, his arms sticking out awkwardly as he properly balanced himself. 

When he was able to focus again, Tony was sitting at a desk.

He was leaning back in his desk chair, staring straight forward deep in thought.

"Mister Stark? Can you hear me?"

No response. He wasn't sure why he bothered anymore.

"...Am I the reason you can't sleep?"

No response again, until suddenly Tony was reaching forward, snatching a pen out of a cup near the edge of the desk and ripping off a piece of scrap paper from a notepad to his left. Tony positioned the paper in front of him and made to write something at the top left corner. Peter held his breath.

And for five minutes, that was all Tony did. His pen hovered above the paper as he stared deep in thought, hypothesizing how he was going to write whatever he needed to write.

Finally, with a shaky inhale, the pen met the paper. 

Peter couldn't resist. He shot up, skirting around the desk and leaning over Tony's shoulder to read the words.

" _Kid-"_ he hesitated for a moment, thoughts slow and calculated.

 _Oh, god,_ Peter thought, _I'm not ready for this._

 _"...I wake up in the middle of the night because I can hear you crying at me. I can hear you,"_ pause, _"begging to stay."_

Peter looked away with a wince. He did not need to hear this.

But he also really, really did.

" _I have a different life now, but you haunt me_."

 _You have no idea,_ Peter wanted to laugh. He couldn't find it in himself to do so out loud.

He paused for his next sentence, his spirit thick with hesitation.

" _I'm not your dad, and I never was, but I saw something in you that deserved to be acknowledged._ "

...And Peter suddenly felt like whatever... _unfinished_ business he had that was keeping him there in the abyss was finished, because he _knew_. And Tony knew, too.

Peter had felt like Tony's son, and Tony had felt like Peter's dad. He smiled fondly.

...That had a nice ring to it, at least in his head.

" _You didn't remind me of me, no. You reminded me of someone else. I saw them in you, and I knew who they'd turn out to be, and I couldn't, for the life of me, forget it._ "

Peter ignored the painful past tense of the letter and instead focused on how he wanted to glimpse inside of Tony's brain and remove the complexities so that he knew what he was trying to say to him. Maybe that part of it was better left to Peter's speculation.

" _There was a period there where I thought I'd made the wrong decision."_ Pause. _"I do that. Sometimes. Get it wrong. I'll never admit it twice. That's one. Two's a strike._ "

Peter chuckled slightly. Even without an audience, Tony was still going at it with the clever quips. Or, maybe Tony could feel like standing behind him, could feel the presence of his soul.

" _I thought I'd roped you into a life you weren't ready for. If you would be, ever. But I took my shot, guns ablazin', and you ended up with a concussion and an unhappy Happy._ "

Peter couldn't help but laugh out loud. Oh, what he wouldn't give for a concussion and an unhappy Happy.

"... _Still, I saw something in you that deserved a chance. This,"_ pause, _"_ _potential_ _that I couldn't let go of. I either backed off, and let you swing, so to speak, or I stepped in, and tried to guide you_."

Just when Peter didn't think he could lean forward any more in anticipation, Tony was dropping his pen with an exasperated sigh, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling numbly. Peter held his breath, watching him, studying the lines of his tired face.

"God, give me a break," Tony muttered under his breath. Tears pricked his eyes.

"Mister Stark," Peter croaked out, taking Tony's shoulders firmly in his hands. Tony didn't flinch. "Tony, just wait for me, okay? _Please_. Wait for me."

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. He looked like he wanted death now more than ever. Peter couldn't let that happen.

"You're getting older. You're moving on. And I'm-I'm getting _scared_ , Tony. I think..." Peter swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes shut. "I think I'll die if you die. I'll-I'll _really_ die. So-so please, Tony, I'm begging you. Wait for me. I'm still somewhere. I still _exist_."

Tony disappeared before he could really get through to him. Peter collapsed to his knees, shortly after collapsing to his side.

"I'm still somewhere."

No one heard him. He drifted out of consciousness yet again.

⎊

When Peter awoke a sixth time, he could've sworn it would be his last time.

He heaved out rasped breaths, eyes fluttering open enough to distinguish Tony's figure standing by a kitchen sink. He was holding that frame again, the one of them with his internship certificate. He was wiping it off with a cloth, fondly tracing the glass. Peter felt his heart slow to one beat per minute as he watched.

He closed his eyes exhaustedly for a moment. When he opened them, the sink was gone. Now, Tony was standing over his desk, arms crossed. Something was hovering over the desk, something glowing, something moving. Tony was talking to it and moving it around with his hands.

"So," Tony's voice boomed, and Peter physically cringed at the volume of it blasting and ripping through every atom of his body, "I'd like to run one last sim before we pack it in for the night. This time, in the shape of a Mobius strip, inverted, please."

God, it was so _loud_. Maybe it would finally kill him. Peter's overall perception of this dream was that he would die before he truly woke; it would be only fitting that it would be Tony's voice that did the deed.

The glowing thing was moving again. Tony's voice continued to shake the abyss he had made a home of, and Peter knew logically that Tony's voice was quiet, gentle, barely above a whisper, but for some reason every time Tony made a sound, it was echoing across every mile in every direction.

The glowing thing stilled. Tony collapsed in his chair, his breaths ragged and short.

Peter was sad. He wanted to make sure Tony was okay. He wanted to lift himself up and check on him. But he couldn't.

But then, Tony was...laughing. Peter's lip quirked in a smile, hearing Tony's voice one last time before he finally surrendered to the darkness.

"...Shit!"

* * *

"...eter...er...Kid... _Peter_!"

Peter woke with a violent gasp, choking on the crisp, fresh air he was breathing as he stared at the sky above him. It was still orange, but not that annoying... _buzzing_ orange he had come to know painfully well.

He blinked hard before he could distinguish that Doctor Strange was towering over him as Peter lay on the ground. He acknowledged the cold fingers on his temples and glanced over his head to see the bug lady there, too.

His eyes flew wide and he was suddenly lurching over his side and emptying the little contents of his stomach he had left onto the familiar red dirt of-

_...Titan?_

"Uh, wha-?!"

"He is sad," said Bug Lady. "And emotionally ill."

"C'mon, kid," Strange was extending his hand out for Peter to take, a determined grin on his face. "It's been five years. They need us."

"What? Who?"

"Just get up, will you?" 

Peter obliged, taking Strange's hand begrudgingly and stumbling as he regained his balance. He looked every which way, acknowledging the presence of the other Peter and the one Tony had dubbed "Mr. Clean."

They were all _back_. Peter spared half a thought wondering whether or not they had been through the same thing he had, though he was struggling to remember what exactly that was. Everything was a fuzzy yet buzzing blur.

"Ready?" Strange asked, and he was doing that yellow sparkling thing that he does, which didn't even remotely answer any of their questions, especially this specific... _gifted_ group.

"What exactly are you doing?" the other Peter asked. Strange didn't respond.

He was opening a portal, and the other side didn't exactly look much different to the side they were on now, with the smoky sky and the smoldering grounds of rubble, but Peter's gaze fell upon _one specific genius billionaire_ lying injured on his side and turning his head every which way in search of _one specific portal_ with _one specific Spider-Kid_ in it.

And Peter didn't need to be told twice before he was swinging through it.

⎊

Peter spotted Tony in trouble across the way and was instantly bounding rather recklessly to his rescue. 

He webbed up whoever he needed to, looking up in astonishment as Scott squashed the perpetrator like a bug. He leaped forward, hoisting Tony up onto his feet with ease.

"Mister Stark," Peter breathed out, retracting his mask. Tony's own helmet retracted as well.

He stared at the kid like he was the greatest miracle to ever grace the planet with his presence, mouth agape and heart in his throat

"I need to ask you something."

Tony didn't answer. He simply stared, eyes glossed with tears and face ridden with grief. He was simply floored by the sight of him.

"Can you...see me?" Peter blurted out. "Am I real?"

Peter guessed that maybe the question wasn't as absurd as he thought it had been in his head, because Tony wasn't looking at him like he was stupid, he wasn't scoffing and telling him to cut the crap.

Instead, he was reaching a trembling and cautious arm forward, firmly squeezing Peter's arm with one hand and cupping Peter's face like it was made of glass with the other, letting a relieved sob escape the back of his throat. 

"You...you're _real_."

Tony all but stumbled into Peter as he threw strong arms around his kid, cradling the back of his head and planting firm kisses against Peter's temple. He pulled out the hug, cheeks wet with tears as he cupped the kid's face in his hands.

"Listen, kiddo. I honest to god have _no clue_ how this whole thing is gonna go down, so I'm just going to come right out and say it: I love you."

"I love you too, Mister Sta-"

"Shut up, the adult is talking. Listen: I-I have a daughter now. I got married. I live in the woods. I have a pet alpaca named Gerald."

Peter let out a wet laugh.

_Belive me, I know._

"I have a different life now. But I want you to be a part of it, you hear me? I'm all in."

Peter let out a relieved laugh as he leaned into Tony's touch fondly. Something exploded in the distance that startled them both momentarily. Tony flew an arm out protectively, instinctively, before turning back to his kid with an alert gaze.

"Alright, look. I promise I will explain it all when we win this. I will draw you pictures, I'll use puppets...but for right now, you have to just trust me. Alright?"

"Sounds good," Peter nodded. Now, he was the one looking at Tony like he was the miracle. Tony nodded, leaning forward and planting another kiss on Peter's head before his helmet was snapping back into place and he was flying off into the smoky sky above.

⎊

Peter was trapped under something. 

He assumed it was once a concrete wall in the compound, though he couldn't be sure. Just about all of his energy was drained from his body and he found he could barely lift the damn thing off of him. His arms shook and his voice trembled helplessly as he tried.

" _Peter? Peter, where are you?!"_

He let out a shocked yelp as the slab of debris began shifting in place, grinding against his injuries before his knight in red and gold shining armor was standing before him, debris in his hands. He threw it to the ground as quickly as he could, helmet dematerializing as wide, worry-filled eyes finally met Peter's

"Oh, Peter," Tony stepped out of his suit and lurched forward, taking Peter fiercely in protective arms.

" _Tony_ ," Peter breathed out in relief, wrapping his arms around his mentor and feeling a comfort so warm that it swallowed him whole and momentarily made him forget where he was.

"Jesus, kiddo, could you quit getting lost all the time?"

"Sorry," he breathed. "Sorry. I didn't-didn't see it coming, and then there was this flash, and someone was snapping the gauntlet, and I-I-I couldn't-"

"Shh," Tony clapped a hand on Peter's back and kissed his mess of curls. "It's okay. You're okay, baby."

Peter's heart leaped to his throat at the name and he was finally letting out a sob, burying his face into Tony's shoulder. 

And Peter had known. He had always been certain while he had been trapped in the Soul Realm that this _did_ exist. That in some wildly parallel universe, at some other place in time, Peter would be infinitely Tony's, and Tony would be infinitely _his._

With everything on the line, with _everything_ at stake, he survived on the delusions of his intrinsic mind, constantly and aimlessly searching for deliverance and making wildly blatant misconceptions that Tony was purposefully moving on without him and filling his gap with another kid.

Maybe Tony was simply coping and making room for him all along.

"I love you," Tony whispered. He continued planting kisses in his curls. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

He melted.

_The universe was alright._

**Author's Note:**

> "at another place in time  
> only parallel to mine  
> the universe was alright  
> when berenstein was fine  
> wait for me, wait for me there  
> i'll die if you die, wait for me i swear  
> wait for me, i'm still somewhere  
> you're getting older and i'm getting scared"


End file.
